You Are Not Alone
by serena4ever2006
Summary: Ever since his parents died, Trunks Briefs lives in a bubble where nothing or no one can hurt him. Can meeting a young optimistic woman, with an equally tragic past change his outlook on life? Or will Trunks be doomed to suffer alone forever?
1. Prologue

AN: Hey everyone! It's been a while! Yeah, Real Life is crazy. Anywho, I've decided to start back writing once again. I'm probably a bit rusty, but hopefully it's not too bad! I hope you all enjoy this! Btw, this is an alternate universe, so no Saiyans and now senshi. I am also taking creative license with everything in this story, hence why it's a fanfiction.

Without further ado, please enjoy! :)

Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own :(

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Prologue

_May 18, 2000_

_A currently four-month pregnant blue-haired woman dressed in a business suit was standing in the foyer of her mansion with her husband waiting for her son to come out and say goodbye. She would soon be leaving for a business trip and her husband was coming with her. After her business meeting, the blue-haired woman and her husband would go on a mini vacation. Her twelve year old son, however, opted to stay home. That didn't mean he couldn't come downstairs and kiss her goodbye though. _

"_Do you think he'll be fine by himself, Vegeta? We've never left him alone before."_

_Vegeta rolled his eyes. "Of course he'll be fine, Bulma. Besides, his grandparents are here, so he's technically not alone. Quit your worrying woman."_

_Before she could respond, their lavender-haired son came running down the last flight of stairs. He jumped the last few steps and landed perfectly before grinning and playing his air-guitar._

_Bulma laughed at her son while Vegeta just smirked and shook his head._

"_It's good to see we'll be really missed, brat."_

_Trunks grinned at his father. "Of course I'll miss you guys! But you can also take your time coming back!"_

_Bulma shook her head before walking over to her son. "Ok, Trunks, we'll only be gone a week. The important numbers are on the fridge-"_

"_Mom, I'll be fine! Besides, Grandma and Grandpa are still here!'_

"_That's what I said," Vegeta grumbled._

_Bulma ignored both of the men in her life and continued, "If your grandparents aren't here and you need something, I left the Son's number on-"_

"_Come on, Mom! Goten is my best friend! I've known his number ever since I could talk!"_

_A car horn sounded in the distance._

_Bulma looked at her son and smiled before kneeling down and grasping him in a tight hug. Trunks blinked in confusion as he felt something wet brush against his cheek. "Mom?"_

"_I'm sorry baby, it's these stupid hormones. I'll miss my baby boy," Bulma said as she wiped her eyes._

_Having been taken by surprise by his mother's behavior, Trunks didn't even bother telling his mother he's not a baby, rather a young man. He hugged her back just as tightly. "I love you mom."_

_Bulma cried harder. "I love you, too Trunks."_

_Vegeta smiled softly at his family as he walked over. "Ok you two, that's enough of that," he said, helping Bulma to her feet and rested a hand on her waist._

_Trunks glanced up at his father and grinned mischievously. "You gonna cry too?_

_Vegeta rolled his eyes while smirking, "Not on your life, kid."_

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_Once his parents left, Trunks got permission from his grandparents to invite Goten over. They were in his room, Goten on a bean bag and Trunks in his bed, engrossed in a game of "_Basic Reality IV_" when the phone rang. _

"_Aren't you gonna get that, Trunks?"_

"_Why, so you can try to beat my kill streak? Besides, my grandparents are home. One of them'll get it."_

_Goten shrugged and continued mashing buttons with his tongue out. "Dude, I'm totally gonna win!"_

"_Over my dead body!"_

_A scream suddenly pierced the air, followed by a sob. Trunks immediately hopped up out of his bed and ran towards the source of the scream, Goten hot on his heels. They ran to the kitchen and saw Trunks' grandmother on the floor, clutching her chest and his grandfather holding the phone against his ear, fighting back tears. Trunks looked between the two of them, worry etching his features._

"_What's wrong?"_

_Dr. Briefs hung up the phone and looked sorrowfully at his grandson and Goten. He took a deep breath._

"_Trunks…I…it's-" Dr. Briefs could hold back the tears no longer as he looked at the worried faces of his grandson and his grandson's friend._

"_Uh…Dr. Briefs?" Goten asked. He always hated when people cried. It usually made him want to cry._

"_Grandpa, you're starting to scare me. What's going on?"_

_Dr. Briefs looked away, not able to meet his grandson's eyes. He kneeled down to comfort his wife, who began sobbing uncontrollably on the floor._

"_Trunks," Dr. Briefs began again, "It's your parents."_

_Trunks' eyes widened in worry and unshed tears. "What's wrong? What happened? Are they alright?"_

_Dr. Briefs looked away once again. _

"_Grandpa! Answer me!" Trunks yelled. He knew. The moment he saw his grandmother's expression, he knew. _

_He just didn't want to believe it. _

_Dr. Briefs let out a shuddering sigh. "Your parents…there was an accident, and they…they didn't make it."_

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_Trunks had locked himself in his room and cried for five days straight. He barely ate and rarely slept. He mourned his mother and his father. He also mourned the little brother or sister he never got to meet. Trunks was really looking forward to being a big brother._

_Now, he would not have that chance._

_The only time he watched television was to find out what caused his parents' untimely demise. It turns out the plane they were on had a faulty engine, causing the plane to crash. Due to his family's high social status, every media outlet covered the story._

_They held a funeral for both Bulma and Vegeta six days after the incident. They waited to see if the bodies were able to be recovered. Unfortunately, they were not._

_The day of the funeral was the worse day of Trunks' life._

_Everyone came up to him and said the same thing. "We're so sorry for your loss," or "I'm so sorry about your parents," or, the one that pissed him off the most, "I know exactly how you feel."_

_Trunks snorted at that. 'No! You don't know how I fucking feel!'_

_During the ceremony, Trunks was numb. He refused to cry; he refused to think, feel, or even speak. _

_He just needed to get away from everything and everyone._

_After the funeral and burial, Trunks immediately went home and locked himself in his room for another twenty-four hours._

_But he didn't cry anymore. He refused._

_Trunks refused to leave his room when company came over. Friends and family were constantly coming over days after the funeral to "check" on him and his grandparents. _

_Trunks just wanted to be left alone. _

_Slowly but surely, the traffic in and out of his house slowed down and eventually stopped. His grandmother went back to tending her gardens and the house. His grandfather went back to Capsule Corporation, the family business, full time. Yep, life was back to normal._

_Except it wasn't._

_And it would never be._

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_Present day_

An alarm blared to life in the deafening silence of an immaculately clean room located in _West City Gardens_, an upscale place that housed only the best condominiums. Trunks Briefs groaned slightly before rolling over in his king-sized bed to shut off the godforsaken thing. He cracked open one ice-blue eye to look at the time and sighed. He had just gone to bed four hours ago. He really needed to stop putting in these late nights.

The lavender-haired man got up, brushed his teeth and showered. He then dressed in one of his many coal grey Armani suits with an off-white button-up shirt and black tie. He was a man of expensive, yet simple taste.

He also _loathed_ shopping. Typically, when the lavender-haired man found something he liked, he purchased it, in excess.

The young man went downstairs and fixed himself some toast and had a glass of orange juice while reading the newspaper to keep up on current events. He skimmed over the paper, getting the general gist of the goings on in West City. Anything that could be considered depressing was skipped over. Trunks still didn't watch television.

It was too depressing.

He honestly tried to watch TV again a couple of months after the passing of his parents. Everything he watched, or rather attempted to watch, had some form depressing scenes.

He tried watching comedy, but there was always a scene where something goes wrong, which was depressing. It was a supposed to be a_ comedy _for crying out loud!

He tried watching horror. Big mistake considering there were people dying left and right.

He tried romantic comedies, but found them too…_cliché. _Not to mention sappy.

Trunks Briefs was not the sappy type.

The only thing the young lavender-haired man refused to even attempt to watch was _reality TV._ Seriously, why was half of the population trying to be such fame whores?

Finally, he tried watching the news to see what was going on in the world. That was another mistake considering all of the tragedy in the world. Trunks realized he was making a lot of mistakes in his young life. To avoid any more, he decided to swear off TV.

More accurately, he decided to swear of anything that would make him think about death, tragedy, or just the general _fucked-upness_ of the world in general. Yes, Trunks Briefs, now owner/CEO of Capsule Corporation, Inc. lived in his own little bubble.

He was ok with that.

The young blue-eyed man decided at a young age to distance himself from anything that could possibly hurt him. That unfortunately included friends and family.

When was the last time he saw his grandparents?

In 2010. That was when he graduated from college and was handed his wealth/job on a silver platter. Dr. Briefs told Trunks he was officially retiring from the business and was moving away with Mrs. Briefs to Crystal City. That was on the other side of the continent. That would mean if Trunks wanted to see his grandparents, he would have to get on a plane.

There was _no way in hell_ he was doing that.

Dr. and Mrs. Briefs left the day after Trunks' graduation. Trunks didn't see his grandparents off.

Once again, people who were an integral part of his life were leaving him. With his grandparents moving so far away from him, he was forced to acknowledge that, for the first time in his life, he was alone. He hated feeling like that. The day his grandparents left, he called up Goten, went out, and got positively _plastered._

That was the best day of his life. At least, he thought it was.

He really couldn't remember.

Trunks glanced up at the clock on the wall. _'Time for work again.'_ He grabbed his leather briefcase and was out the door. The lavender-haired man went to the garage and hopped in his new expensive, top-of-the-line Sports car, and sped off towards Capsule Corporation.

So what if Trunks lived in a bubble.

At least in his bubble, no one could hurt him.

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Before anyone asks, I'm not against reality tv, I'm just not for it either. Do I watch it? Yes! Do I question my sanity when I watch it? Yes! Do I enjoy it? Sadly, the answer is yes. Do I bash it? Absolutely yes! I'm just a big conundrum, aren't I?

Haha! So anyway, what did you think? Loved it? Loathed it? Feel indifferent? Tell me in a review!


	2. Well-Oiled Machine

AN: Hi everyone! Thank you to those who reviewed and wanted more. I hope you all find this chapter to your liking. I don't plan to give up on this story anytime soon, so (un)fortunately you're stuck with me!

Also, big thanks to AnaFrost for the art! You rock my socks!

Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own…

Chapter one: Well-Oiled Machine

Trunks was currently sitting in a meeting with all of his Directors, who _all_ looked as tired as he felt. The young lavender-haired man almost groaned outwardly while listening to his Supply Chain Director give his latest excuse as to why the orders of one of his major retail clients, _Best Electronics_, were not met.

"Mr. Briefs," Mr. Yamish began, "We were currently working on five huge contracts. Their demand for Capsule Corporation products exceeded our current supply!"

The lavender-haired man leaned back in his leather chair and looked the middle-aged man directly in the eye before smoothly replying. "I fail to see how product demand exceeded our supply, when we have a huge factory full of _capable workers_."

"Sir, please understand, these people are already overworked! Most already work ten plus hours! These people have families that they barely see!" At this, all present in the meeting immediately cringed and glanced warily at their young boss, whose look turned to ice. Mr. Yamish, having realized his mistake immediately tried to backtrack. "Sir, I didn't mean-"

"Mr. Yamish," the young lavender-haired man began carefully while leaning forward in his chair, "do you think _I_, of all people, don't know how it feels to not _see_ my family?"

The salt and pepper haired man gulped. "No sir, I would never-! "

"I may not _see_ my family, but I still manage to _get my job done_!" Everyone winced as the young man's tone went from cool to ice-cold. No one dared to point out that their boss didn't have to option of going home to his family, whereas everyone else did.

They were overworked. Not _stupid._

"Sir, I-"

"Mr. Yamish," the young boss continued as if not interrupted. He once again leaned back in his seat, folded his hands against his midsection, and glanced cooly at his employee, "you do know you are a manager, correct?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. That means you would know what a manager's _primary_ function is?"

The middle-aged man nodded. Where was this going?

"What _is_ your primary function Mr. Yamish?"

Mr. Yamish took a deep breath before answering. "My job is to make sure the orders are complete. "

"And?"

"And keep up correspondence with all of the venders to make sure the orders are satisfactory?" The middle-aged man answered.

Trunks sighed as he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Seriously, why was he surrounded by such incompetence? "Mr. Yamish, you just gave me part of your _job description._ What is your actual job as a _manager_?"

The middle-aged man gulped before meekly answering. "I thought my job description was my actual job, sir."

Trunks actually did roll his eyes this time. "Mr. Yamish, a manager's job, in its _simplest_ definition, is to be efficient, effective, and get the job done." The lavender-haired man then leaned forward in his seat and looked his employee directly in the eye.

"Now, were you efficient and effective in sending that the shipment to _Best Electronics_?"

Mr. Yamish fidgeted causing Trunks to inwardly smirk. He enjoyed making his employees squirm.

"That wasn't a rhetorical question."

"No sir I wasn't, bu-"

The young boss continued before Mr. Yamish could offer up another lame excuse. "So you were neither _efficient_ nor _effective_, which then means you did not get the job done. So, are you telling me that you are not _capable _of getting the job done?"

There was silence in the room as the silent threat hung in the air.

"No sir," the man replied, properly chastised.

"'No sir' I'm _not_ capable, or 'No sir' I _am_ capable?"

"No sir, I am capable."

The blue-eyed man nodded in response. "Good, so that means you can call back _Best Electronics_, and tell them they can expect the shipment within the week?"

"Yes sir."

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After the meeting the young lavender-haired man rode the elevator by himself to his office. On the outside, he had his normal stoic appearance. On the inside, however, he was agitated.

How _dare_ Yamish even bring up family as an _excuse_! What a prick!

Trunks almost fired him on the spot. The only reason the middle-aged man was spared was because Trunks never made rash decisions when it came to business.

His mother taught him that.

Contrary to popular belief, Trunks did care if his employees had families to care for. Contrary to popular belief, he wasn't _completely_ heartless. He just didn't give a shit.

Trunks also knew he could be an asshole. In fact, he was proud of the fact that when his employees saw him, they immediately scrambled to get out of his way. Not that they should be standing around in the first place. The young man didn't pay anyone to stand around and gossip; he paid people to _work_. Capsule Corporation ran like a well-oiled machine. That is what Capsule Corporation the best damn company in the country.

And if Trunks had anything to do with it, it _will_ stay that way.

The elevator dinged signaling it had arrived to its destination. The well-dressed man stepped out of the elevator and walked towards his office.

"Oh, Mr. Briefs!" Trunks looked over to see his secretary scurrying to catch up to him.

"Yes, Mrs. Himura?" Trunks tersely asked the young woman as he continued his trek to his office.

"I know this is last minute, but my son and his soccer team made it to nationals. I was wondering if I could maybe have tomorrow off?" She asked timidly.

Trunks barely spared the woman a glance as he stopped just outside of his office. "Did you get the forms I asked for?"

"Yes sir. They're on your desk"

"My calendar updated?"

"Yes sir."

"Messages and emails answered?"

"Yes sir."

"Will you be in the position to answer the phone if needed?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. You can have tomorrow off," Trunks said while opening his office door. See, he wasn't _completely_ heartless. The only reason he granted his secretary the time she asked for was because all of her work is done. _'If only everyone had her work ethic.'_

The young secretary smiled in relief and exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding. "Thank you so much sir!"

Trunks nodded while stepping into his office. "Oh, and Mrs. Himura?"

"Yes sir?"

"Please make sure I am not disturbed for the remainder of the day."

The secretary nodded. "Will do, sir."

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Trunks Briefs rubbed his eyes as he looked at the clock. 8:00pm. He'd been at work for a full twelve hours. Judging by the stack of papers on his desk, he'd be there for at least another four hours. Sighing and standing up, the young man stretched and glanced out the window. He could remember being captivated by the view from the office when he was younger.

_~Flashback~_

_Bulma Briefs worked diligently at her desk while her six year old son sat on a chair to the side and played with his newest electronic game. The blue-haired woman felt bad having her son sit to the side as she worked, but there wasn't much choice. Vegeta, one of the best martial artists in West City, was currently working out in preparation for an upcoming competition and her parents were on vacation. Bulma would've called a babysitter, but it was such short notice. Not to mention her darling son scared off any half-way descent babysitters. It wasn't that Trunks was bad, he was just curious and that curiosity often got him into trouble. _

_Bulma smiled as her lavender-haired son huffed under his breath. He was getting frustrated every time he lost a level. Eventually the young lavender-haired boy tossed his game to the side in frustration._

"_Mom, are you almost done yet?"_

_Bulma glanced at her son. "No Trunks, I have to get through all of this," she said as she gestured to the high stack of paperwork on her desk."_

"_Oh. Then why'd you stop writing?" Bulma smiled. 'Always so attentive.'_

"_I was just lost in thought for a little while."_

_The little lavender-haired boy smirked, looking much like his father. "Lost for a while mom? Did you enter into unfamiliar territory?"_

_Bulma glared playfully at her son as he burst into a fit of giggles. "I take it you got that little quip from your father?" She stated rather than asked._

_Trunks grinned proudly. "The one and only."_

_Bulma shook her head. What was she going to do with the two men in her life?_

"_Are you hungry?"_

_At this, the young boy's stomach growled, bringing a blush to his tan cheeks. "A little."_

_Bulma smiled at him. "I'll order take-out."_

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_An hour later mother and son were sitting behind the desk on the floor eating dinner together, both enjoying the view from the window that covered the back wall in the office. Bulma smiled to herself as Trunks stared in awe of the city._

"_It's beautiful, isn't it?" Bulma asked her son._

_Trunks nodded. "I've always liked the view here, especially when it's time for the festival. You can see the fireworks really well from up here."_

"_When I was younger my dad would let me watch the fireworks from his office also, only because I don't like crowds though. Then, it just sort of became our way of spending time together," Bulma said as she smiled fondly at the memory._

_Trunks looked from the captivating view to his mother. "Next time can I bring Goten? I'm sure he'd love it up here!"_

"_We'll see." Bulma said as she took a bite of her food. Trunks and Goten together in her office? At the same time? Absolutely not._

"_Woman, where's mine?!"_

_Trunks and Bulma both turned their heads to the doorway. There stood Vegeta in a pair of black pants and a black tank top. Bulma rolled her eyes at her husband while Trunks grinned as he stood up and ran to his father. Vegeta affectionately patted his son on the head._

"_Dad! You're back!"_

_Vegeta smirked crossed his arms over his chest. "I was only gone for a few hours Trunks. Besides, I offered you to come with me."_

_Trunks pouted slightly. "I would've been even _more_ bored. Besides, I figured since Goku was there you'd be there for hours."_

"_Yeah, why are you back so early?" Bulma asked as she went to stand by her son and husband._

"_Goku's wife came to the gym and dragged him out. Literally."_

_Bulma and Trunks laughed at the mental image._

"_So, where's my food?"_

_Bulma rolled her eyes and went over to the bag of food. "You're lucky I love you."_

_Together, the family sat together in Bulma's office and had dinner together. The blue-haired woman looked at her watch and saw it was well past 9pm. She then looked at the documents still currently occupying her desks before sighing._

"_Mom, are we going now?"_

_Bulma saw her son and husband standing by the door. Trunks looked hopeful and excited while Vegeta just cocked an eyebrow. Bulma sighed. 'Oh well, I'll just stay late tomorrow after my meetings.'_

_~End Flashback~_

Trunks' daydream was cut short at the ringing of his work phone. Blinking in confusion, he walked from the window to his desk to answer the phone. The caller ID registered as _Son Chi-Chi_. Trunks rolled his eyes but couldn't help the smile that came to his lips. If there was one person who could bring a reluctant smile to his face, it was his best friend. Trunks pick up the phone.

"What do you want?"

"_Is that any way to speak to your bestest friend in the whole wide world_?" Trunks rolled his eyes at the static-y voice on the other line.

"Seriously Goten, 'bestest?' What are you, five?"

Goten laughed. "_Whatever man. I was just calling to see how you're doing. I haven't heard from you in what, six months?"_

Trunks blinked. Had it really been six months? The last time they hung out had been on the anniversary of his parent's…

"I didn't even realize it's been that long. I've been busy," Trunks said, effectively cutting that thought off.

"_Dude, you seriously work way too much. When's the last time you got out?"_

"When's the last time we hung out?"

Trunks heard Goten sigh on the other end of the phone. _"Okay, so this is how this is going to go. Saturday night, we're going out. You and me. I'm going to call up some friends and you are going to enjoy yourself."_

"Goten…" Trunks said in warning. He really wasn't in the mood to hang out.

"_Don't you 'Goten' me! You're 26 years old! You need to get out and sow your wild oats!"_

"My 'oats' are fine being un-sowed thank you very much."

"_Dude, have you even tested your oats?"_

"Which ones? Organic or processed?" Trunks grinned. He could practically hear Goten's confusion over the phone.

"_Umm, I'm not sure how to answer that…"_

"Good."

"_Still a smartass, I see."_

"You know what they say, the more things change, the more they stay the same."

"_Yeah, I never understood that saying."_

"You wouldn't buddy, you wouldn't."

"_Anyway, stop trying to distract me. Trunks, we are going out Saturday night and we are gonna have fun! And you are going to sow you oats, both organic and processed!"_

Trunks sighed. "Goten, honestly I-"

"_What if I call up a couple of girls to hang with us?"_

Trunks mentally sighed. "Goten, the last time you called up couple of girls to hang out a brawl broke out in the theatre."

"_Ok, so we won't go drinking before seeing a movie."_

"They were fighting over you."

"_Oh yeah. Well, it's not my fault I'm so irresistible."_

"Of course it's not," Trunks said sarcastically while rolling his eyes in exasperation. Goten would continuously badger him until he caved. He was like a gnat. The more you swatted and batted, the more the gnat would annoy the shit out of you.

"_-meet."_

Trunks blinked. "What did you say Goten?"

"_I said it'll just be four of us. We'll eat, have a few drink and see where the night takes us. Besides, there's someone I really want you to meet."_

Trunks shrugged. If it was just dinner it should be fine. "Fine Goten. Where and what time?"

"_Yes! I was thinking Sushi Palace? We could all meet up there at 8?"_

Trunks shrugged. "Ok, sounds good."

"_Awesome! Now, I know how you get sidetracked, so I'll be calling you up until it's time to meet."_

Trunks rolled his eyes. Was he really that bad? "I'll put it in my phone."

"_Great! See you then buddy! We have a lot to catch up on!"_ Goten said before hanging up the phone. Trunks shook his head and hung up the phone. Goten really will be calling him up until it was time to go.

Trunks smiled at the thought of his best friend. Son Goten was the only person in his life he could not run off, or rather, who refused to run off. No matter how long they go without talking or seeing each other, they always pick back up where they left off. No matter how crazy Trunks' life gets, he could always count on Goten to be there.

Goten was the one constant in his life, and for that, he was grateful.


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